


My Kid

by zcinmalik



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Big Brother Jason Todd, Brothers, Damian Wayne is Robin, Damian Wayne is a Little Shit, Embarrassment, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Little Brothers, Protective Jason Todd, Protective Older Brothers, Protective Siblings, Protectiveness, Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 00:08:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17192780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zcinmalik/pseuds/zcinmalik
Summary: Jason hadn’t anticipated becoming any more furious than he already was. Then he saw someone punch Robin in the face before jamming a needle into his neck.After that, Jason’s vision turned a little red.





	My Kid

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lurkinglurkerwholurks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lurkinglurkerwholurks/gifts).



> Thank you so much to the Batfam Christmas Stocking mod for hosting this and to [lurkinglurkerwholurks](http://Lurkinglurkerwholurks.tumblr.com/) for the inspiring prompts! Written for the prompt "A character flipping into hardcore MINE mode over another when the latter is in danger or threatened (bonus points if the two characters are currently on the outs but nevertheless go totally Ride Or Die)."
> 
> This is my first fic for this fandom, and I hope you enjoy reading it like I enjoyed writing it!

A gun was a coward’s weapon, but under the circumstances, Damian needed one. Todd had been less than amenable when Damian had asked for a favor in the most perfectly reasonable way possible (“Make yourself useful for once and give me a gun. One with as long a range as possible”).

After the door slammed in his face, Damian sighed and proceeded with his back-up plan.

 

* * *

 

Jason was going to kick the kid’s ass. He slammed every available surface as he tore through his armory, collecting bullets and absentmindedly shouldering a kevlar vest on. The little _shit_.

Seizing a burner phone, Jason put through a call even as he began storming out of the armory and re-activating every bit of security behind him.

“Where is your brat,” he said as soon as the call connected.

“Hi bro, how’s it going?” Dick said in a false chipper tone. “I know, it’s been a while!”

“You– just–” Jason forced himself to stop walking, close his eyes, and take a deep breath. “You _dick_. I know you keep tabs on that little fucker. I need to know where he is. Now.”

“Why?” At least Dick didn’t pretend not to know which one Jason was talking about. Jason snatched a helmet from his couch on the way out of the safehouse.

“Because he stole a bazooka,” Jason snapped.

 

* * *

 

Damian pulled his hood up against the cold wind and sighed. Some of his colleagues were under the impression that being trained as an assassin meant Damian was used to every manner of killing enemies. The reality was that Damian had been primarily trained to kill in combat, as honored his lineage and honed his skill. Sitting and waiting to kill an enemy from a distance was an unpleasant and rare duty, one that he now found himself having to endure.

Later, Damian would tell himself and Grayson that it was this regrettable unfamiliarity with the practice of long-range assassination, combined with the chill and darkness of the roof and the cowardly stealth of Luthor’s men, that caused him to be taken unawares when they attacked. He would try telling the same thing to Todd, to… little avail.

He did, however, he would hastily note, manage to injure two of the men before succumbing to the sedative that one of them had stabbed him with.

 

* * *

 

Jason hadn’t anticipated becoming any more furious than he already was. Then he saw someone punch Robin in the face before jamming a needle into his neck.

After that, Jason’s vision turned a little red.

 

* * *

 

 

When Damian came to, his jaw and ankle were sharply aching with pain, the rest of his body wasn’t faring much better, and the Red Hood was beating Luthor’s enforcers to an excessive degree. Damian groaned without meaning to, and knew that this indicated he was worse off than he had anticipated becoming tonight.

They were in a spacious, tasteful hotel room, which felt incongruous by comparison to the painfully tight handcuffs that twisted Damian’s hands behind his back and bound him to a chair. To Damian’s mounting annoyance, Todd was holding his own perfectly well against the men that had taken Damian by surprise.

“I was handling this,” Damian felt the need to point out over the sounds of the fight. He allowed himself one childish moment of wrenching at the restraints that held him, even as a more rational part of him began to estimate how long it would take to properly escape them.

Todd didn’t dignify Damian’s words with more than a scoff. A moment later, Damian found himself face to face and mere inches away from one of Luthor’s enforcers. Todd held the man up by the scruff of his jacket, his knees trembling on the hotel carpet as he was forced to awkwardly kneel before Damian. It looked as though little else besides Todd’s grip was keeping the man from collapsing the last few feet to the ground.

“See this kid?” Todd said, no doubt under the impression that his ridiculous voice modulator made him intimidating. The enforcer’s short, shallow breaths produced the familiar scent of blood. Damian glared from the enforcer to Todd and back again, unsure what Todd could possibly be up to.

“This is _my kid_ ,” Todd said. He shook the man’s shoulder to emphasize the words, and the man closed his eyes in pain. “I want you to tell that to your boss and everyone else you know. The next person who touches Robin is going to spend the rest of the month in an ICU and then they’re gonna _wish_ that that was the end of it.”

Before Damian had the chance to point out how ludicrously hypocritical this little speech was, Todd had tossed the man aside and picked up another, one who had been moaning nearby. He proceeded, to Damian’s humiliated horror, to lift this one up to Damian’s face as if to repeat the entire procedure.

“Take a good look at this kid,” Todd said.

“He’s yours, he’s your kid!” the man cut in desperately. “I’ll tell them all, I swear.”

“Hood!” Damian snapped. “What the _hell_ are you doing?”

But to Damian’s indignant fury, Todd continued to ignore him as he worked through every person in the room, every one that he had already beaten down, and subjected them all to the same threat. It wasn’t until he had finally finished and dropped the last one to the ground that Todd deigned to cross his arms and look down to where Damian was tied to the chair, his face burning with embarrassment.

“Just– just get me out of these restraints, you oaf,” Damian sputtered.

“And here I thought you were handling it,” Todd said, his tone so dry it managed to transcend the helmet’s modifier. He finally released Damian from the handcuffs, but before Damian could stand, Todd had gripped him from behind the shoulders and under the knees, lifting him up into his arms.

“ _Hood_!”

“In case you didn’t notice, your ankle is twisted.” Todd began to walk out of the hotel room and down a set of stairs, ignoring Damian’s flailing attempts to escape. Damian was so apoplectic that for a moment, he couldn’t muster any words in response.

“Put me down!” Damian finally shouted. “I am perfectly capable of–”

“Nope,” Todd said cheerfully. “This is what you get for stealing my shit, kid.”

“I needed it!” Damian argued. “Luthor has threatened Superboy for the last time, and–” He cut himself off as Todd approached the door that led from the stairwell into the hotel’s lobby. “Hood, _stop_! You have to let me down before anyone– You’ve already made your ridiculous point!”

“I don’t think I have, actually,” Todd said. And he then proceeded to carry a humiliated Damian through the very crowded hotel lobby.

**Author's Note:**

> [@zeeyum](http://zeeyum.tumblr.com/)


End file.
